S'wamp of Oracles i8i 



which grew willow bushes aud tamarack spires, inter- 

 spersed by grape-vines. I crawled through the bushes 

 without finding a flower worthy of description. Sur- 

 rounding the edges of this island, tall spikes of the 

 Fragrant Northern Orchis {Habenaria dilatatd) rose 

 above the water-soaked sphagnum. I was able to 

 reach a few of them, then sought the terra fi^-jna of the 

 tangled swamp beyond. I ran great risk, since I was 

 forced to wade the soaking bogs where the cat-tail flags 

 were dense. I managed to jump from hummock to 

 hummock, not waiting for the grass to grow beneath 

 my feet. Beyond I struggled through the low tangled 

 trees covered with the Wild Frost Grape- Vines or Pos- 

 sum-Grape ( Viiis cordifolia), amid tamaracks, swamp- 

 maples, poison-sumach and ivy-vines. I observed many 

 enormous colonies of Pitcher Plants, still in bloom in 

 the shades. Finally I reached the muddy bank of Ball 

 Brook, ragged, dirty, and tired. I found the stream 

 impassable because of the mud. Even old Major had 

 sense enough not to go too near the stream. I was 

 forced to make my way, as well as possible, back to 

 the mill, among piles of old tinware that had been ac- 

 cumulating since the early Revolutionary days of 1777. 

 Once out of this place, it was a pleasure to enter 

 the open Pitcher Plant Meadow, where I searched for 

 Pogonias and Limodorums without success. I circled 

 about the swamp and turned away from it at the north, 

 climbing over the hill above the Washon Bridge, to- 

 ward Cranberry Swamp. Blue jays were screaming 

 loudly, and catbirds were mewing in the bushes near 



